


I have missed you

by Jojos_guizmou



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, i guess, this is the mushiest of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:59:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojos_guizmou/pseuds/Jojos_guizmou
Summary: The Warden and Alistair are finally reunited.





	I have missed you

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic in english yay!  
> (please forgive my poor grammar...)

« I have missed you. »

It was a whisper. The brush of wind against his ear. The tickling of a warm breath on his skin. It was like the rustle of leaves during spring, the babble of water on its bed of stone.

“I have missed you.”

He had longed for those hushed words, so much that, at times, he had heard them in the swishing of grass or the humming of insects. Even through the Calling they had haunted his dreams.

“I have missed you”

Alistair closed his eyes. Ô Maker, do not torture your children so. Once, he had seen her, walking to him with a smile on her face, strong and beautiful as ever. But it had all been an illusion. He was alone. She was not here.

“I am here.”

There was a hand on his shoulder.

“I am here, and I have missed you like the mountains miss the sky, like the birds miss the wind, like the dead miss light. I have missed you more than words can tell.”

He chuckled weakly.

“Poetry, really?”

He turned around, facing Alda for the first time in years.

“Well, what can I say. I have missed you a great deal.”

The Hero of Ferelden smiled and the shadows were lifted. It was like the first day of summer after the cold. Like the gentle touch of friend over bruised ribs. Like emerging in soft light after a journey to the Deep Roads. Alistair felt his heart melt. It had been so long. Was she really here? Looking smug at the surprise on his face. He slowly raised his arms and grabbed her by the elbows. Damn was she a good illusion. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him.

“Alistair?”

Alda was looking at him with concern. Maker, he could feel her breath on his face.

“Alistair you’re scaring me, say something.”

Say something? But there was so much, she was here, he could see her, feel her, smell her. She was in front of him, real and solid and not the wavering mist of a fevered dream. Alistair opened his mouth but the words tumbled upon his tongue and between his teeth. Slowly, as if in front of a statue of Andrasté, he fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her belly.

“Al…”

“Never again.”

His voice was muffled by her clothes and rough with emotion.

“I can’t be away from you for this long ever again.”

He felt nod and card her fingers through his hair. Alda was here. She was here.

“You’re here.”

Both her hands cupped the back of his head.

“I’m here. And I will not leave you.”

The rise and fall of her chest was the sweetest of sensation. Each of her inhales filled him with peace and warmth. The pressure on his shoulders suddenly disappeared and he could not stop the sob that shook his entire body. More followed and soon he was crying with relief against Alda. They held on each other as they had always done through everything.

“You do realize that everybody is starring at us?”

She was stroking his head tenderly, running her fingers against his scalp, gently massaging his skull. He felt her bend forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then she whispered:

“And they can see my face.”

A small laugh escaped his lips. He had quite forgotten about the others in the grand hall of Weisshaupt. He reluctantly let go of Alda and got to his feet. He didn’t dare look around and see the faces of the Wardens, after all, he was already blushing.

“Well. That was embarrass..”

Alda was kissing him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. She smelled like rain, and mud, and sweat, and the dust of the road. She tasted like water, and old bread, and the breath of many sleepless nights. She felt real. Her tongue in his mouth and her hair under his hands were real. Worry and fear left his bones and happiness washed over him like an all engulfing wave.

He was home at last.


End file.
